Operation: Skull Island
by The Cold Soldier
Summary: Alexander Niquolai and Alex Rider are teamed up to face Goronovich, a power hungry man who lives on Skull Island, a popular tourist attraction. They are soon thrown into a perilous mission, and one of the members of the CIA or MI6 is a traitor.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One- The Dark-Skinned Man**

I, Alexander Niquolai (ni-KQO-LIE), stood at the edge of my porch, riling up my golden retriever, Scully, with my swift tickling and petting. I loved that dog, and that was for sure. It was then that I noticed a slim, dark-skinned man staring coldly at me, showing absolutely no emotion.

I, a beginner bodybuilder, turned to my dad, who was standing next to me on the porch, and said, "Dad, why's that guy staring at us like that?" As my dad looked up from _The Birmingham News, _I could see the blood freeze in his veins.

"Lex," my dad said quietly but sternly, "take Scully and go into the house. Now!"

"What's the matter, Dad?"

"Just do it now!"

"Come on, Scully," I said, clapping my hands to emphasize my meaning. Scully, his tail wagging merrily, followed me ecstatically. The dog wasn't an overly intelligent creature; therefore, he wasn't anywhere near as fearful as me. I had never seen my dad so worried before.

As I entered my house, I heard a deafening series of _CRACK CRACK CRACK! _I turned around to see my dad clutch his chest, red liquid seeping from between his fingers. Scully began barking thunderously and ferociously as I flung open the door, dashing to my dad's side. The wounds were extremely lethal; unbelievably, Samuel Niquolai was still barely alive.

"Lex…" my dad rasped, attempting feebly to move his head.

"I'm here, Dad. I'm here!" I cried, cradling my dad's head in my arms.

"I love you, son. Always… remember that. Get paper. Hurry! I won't last much longer."

"Don't say that, Dad! We'll get you help!" I said, but even as the words came from my mouth, I could tell they were not true. The wounds were fatal.

I quickly dashed into the house, returning with a small piece of paper and a pencil. "Write this down and call the number…" my dad wheezed. "346-9822. Goodbye… my son. I will always be proud of you." With those final words, Samuel Niquolai exhaled loudly and died. I roared angrily at the sky, at everyone and everything! At the dark-skinned man. It was obvious my dad had seen him as a threat and had wanted to safeguard his son from the dark-skinned man's malicious, sick acts.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two- CIA**

I stared silently at the paper I held in my hand. I had constantly been relaying the events of the past three days in my head, always ending with the number. My dad had said to call it. I still didn't have the nerve to call some stranger. I finally pulled my Motorola Razr from my pocket and dialed. 346-9822. I had looked up the number in the local phonebooks, but never found anything.

"Central Intelligence Agency. Sam? Is that you?" a gruff, businesslike voice asked. _Holy crap! _I thought. _My dad was in with the CIA! _

"No," I said, trying to sound as calm as possible, "this is his son, Lex Niquolai. Before my dad died, he told me to call this number."

There was a long silence on the other end. Finally, the man spoke, "I am sorry to hear that Sam has passed. He was an excellent covert operative. We will miss him."

"Why did my dad tell me to call you?" I asked, which was a question I'd wondered about from the moment he said "Central Intelligence Agency."

"I'm betting he wanted you to follow in his footsteps. We will send an unmarked car to pick you up. If anyone asks whom you are driving with, tell him or her you are going with one of your dad's business friends to see his office and keep want you want from it. Look for a red Mustang. See you soon, Lex."

He hung up. I set there for a moment, pondering what in the world was going on, and then I stood up and got dressed. _If I'm going anywhere with anyone I don't know, _I thought, remember my dad's death suddenly, _then I'm not going without protection. _I trudged into my dad's room, careful not to be caught by my aunt, Rosa, who was to be my "legal guardian" until my mom was found.

My dad had shown me his OA-93 Pistol about a year ago and told me that if anything happened to him, he wanted me to have it. He had a couple packs of a hundred rounds in the drawer too, along with three spare magazines and a holster. I slipped everything into my backpack and walked out the door, being sure to allow Rosa to see me this time.

"Oh, honey, where are you going?" she asked, her voice like Rose blossoms. I had been told that her parents named her Rosa because her cooing sounded like Rose petals in the wind.

"One of dad's business friends called me and asked me if I wanted to come and pick up the stuff I wanted from Dad's office. He said he would pick me up in a red Mustang. I'm gonna go and wait on the porch for him. Feed Scully for me, okay?" I answered, reciting the man's orders.

I sat down on the porch, waiting impatiently. When I closed the door, I hastily pulled the OA-93 Pistol from my backpack and slipped in a magazine I'd loaded fully into the submachine gun, cocking it. I slid the submachine gun into the pack. A few minutes later, a red Mustang swerved up in the driveway next to mine. I began to walk towards it. Suddenly, the man inside the car opened the door, saying, "Hello, Alexander."

_Alexander? I told the man on the phone that my name was Lex._ The man suddenly looked around nervously and, seeing no one in sight, pulled a .45 Caliber Sig-Sauer from inside his shirt, pointing it at my chest. "You Niquolai's never know when to quit, do you?" the man sneered.

Suddenly, another red Ford Mustang swerved into my driveway. The man distracted by the new arrival, I took advantage of the situation. I hastily drew the OA-93 Pistol from my backpack and aimed it at the man's chest, squeezing the trigger three times.

The man gasped in shock as the bullets buried themselves into his heart, collapsing to the ground with a look of shock on his face. I slipped the OA-93 Pistol back into my pack, disgusted by what I'd done. _I'm the same as him and the dark-skinned man, _I thought pathetically.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three- Goronovich**

A man's pounding footsteps reverberated over the concrete walkway; I turned around to see a man running up to me, a .38 pistol drawn in his hands. I hopped backwards in shock and reached for my OA-93 Pistol again. "Whoa, hold on now, Lex. My name's Special Agent Carter. I was ordered to escort you to our headquarters. I must say that I am proud of you for defending yourself so well against that man. He is-was- a member of _El Loco Diablos, or--" _Carter said.

"Or The Crazy Devils. I was taught Spanish by my dad," I interrupted.

We walked back over to his Mustang and entered the car. "They must have tapped your phone lines in order to know so much, including the red Mustang. Don't worry, though, we'll clean up the mess," Carter said slyly. He looked down, embarrassed. "I apologize. I was told to blindfold you so that way, if you decide not to join the CIA, you'll have no remembrance of its location. Please forgive me, Lex," the agent said sheepishly, slipping a blindfold over my head.

For the rest of the ride, I was only aware of sounds, not sight, and, as it turns out, your ears are an amazing form of understanding. I could hear a lot of sounds that I would have ignored if I could see. Suddenly, the car stopped and the door opened on my side.

I was pulled from the car gently and walked into a building, where the blindfold was pulled off of my head. As I did a brief oversight of the area, I noticed that this place was _massive_! Carter began walking off hastily, telling me, "Come along, Lex. Don't wanna get lost here."

We continued a windy path through the building, stopping occasionally to greet other friends of Carter's. I gaped at the amazing building, which I couldn't understand half of the gadgets in. We finally entered a door that had the engraving "Head-of-Operations Thomas Nulle" on it.

"Ah, Lex! I'm glad you made it," a voice said as I entered the room. I noted that the voice was the one that I had talked to on the phone. Seated in front of me was one of the most muscular men I'd ever seen! His chest and arms were like massive machines of destruction!

"You see, Lex, I've been wanting a teenage agent for a long time now, and I believe that you'd be the perfect candidate for the position. That is, if you accept my proposition. Your father dying was a sharp blow to my team. He was an excellent covert operative and we shall direly miss him. However, he trained you well, as I can see from you shooting one of the members of the gangster group, _El Loco Diablos,_ without hesitation."

"Well, he was about to shoot me, so I didn't really have a choice in the matter," I answered.

"I would like to send you into one of our missions in a week from now. We would be sending you to Skull Island, a communist community, which is also where the man who I'm sure you've heard of, Minstriel Goronovich, or, as you know him, the creator of _Death Destruction 3, _lives." He placed a picture in front of me. The man stood proudly by his latest arcade came, a deep scar running ominously along his right cheek. "We suspect him of creating some form of WMDs, or as you would all them, Weapons of Mass Destruction. You would be heavily armed, although it would be unknown to the enemies. Our weapons specialist, Brett, has already made a few 'gizmos' for you to try out."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four- Gizmos**

Suddenly, a fat, plump man walked into the room, carrying a sack filled with unknown "gizmos."

"Hello there, Lex. I have enjoyed doing this job for you, because I will admit that it was a challenge to have edited everyday items that a young man like you would have, such as turning a cell phone into a poison dart submachine gun." He removed a Razr phone similar to the one I had, although it was red. "You simply pull the plastic end off of the 'antenna' and point it at someone. Then, just press the silver button on the side and he's dead for good! But I will warn you, this _will_ kill if you or anyone else that touches any part of the needle. This is a box of a hundred more needles," he said, pulling out a pack of Big Red "gum."

"Don't try chewing these," he said, handing the phone and the "gum" to me. "And yes, you can use the phone to call someone. Just press 'send' and '1' at the same time to instantaneously contact us."

"You've also got this bad boy," he said, pulling out a skull-shaped necklace. He pointed to a red jewel imbedded in the center of the piece of jewelry. "Precision laser with a 2,500 degree temperature. Burns clean through anything you could be in need of frying. All you gotta do is spin the jewel one time down and ZAP! Then," he giggled gleefully, "we have this right here!"

He removed a pair of sunglasses from the bag. "Five different settings. Say the word 'extreme' for X-ray vision. Get it? X for 'extreme?' saying 'zany' will activate a fiber-optical system in the sunglasses which zooms in times two each time you say it. Then you have the night-vision setting. 'Nuts' activates this. There's also 'shocking' for an electrical charge strong enough to knock someone out but not fatally harm them to shoot out from the sunglasses.

"Finally," he said with a suck of breath, "my personal favorite: 'awesome!'"

"Awesome? What's awesome?"

"No, that's the activation. An acidic compound that is twelve times more powerful than mace sprays from the same little circular 'joints' as the charge does that are in the glasses' ends. Impressed?"

"Yeah!" I said, and I really was! "Anything else?" I asked hopefully.

"This," he said, pulling out a sapphire ring. "Guess what this does."

"No clue," I shrugged.

"Three different settings. It's a video camera that feeds directly to our surveillance expert, Special Agent Carter. To activate this function, squeeze your finger once with the ring on it. Also, squeeze it twice to activate a blinding 'flash bang' setting, which will flare out to blind and temporarily deafen any enemy that you aim it at, but make sure not to look when you activate it, and be aware that it will deafen you as well. Also, by squeezing your finger three times, a microscopic little item hidden within the pack of 'gum' sends out a blocking signal, which can easily confuse the most high-tech metal-detector on Earth!" He handed me all of the items, which I quickly outfitted onto my body.

"Extreme!" I said, my eyes widening in amazement as the walls and flesh of everyone in the room flashed blue, and then vanished. "Why does Mr. Nulle have a gun in his coat?" I asked, seeing the outline of the submachine gun inside the hulking man's jacket.

"Excellent!" Brett giggled excitedly.

"Extreme!" I said again. The fat little man's flesh and clothing reappeared.

He reached over and placed an inch-think block of steel in front of me, telling me, "Burn through it." I spun the blood-red jewel once, a thin red beam shooting from the jewel. As I slowly moved the necklace downward, smoke began swirling up from the thin cut I was putting in the steel. In seconds, I had burned straight through the block of steel. It was then that I realized I had a problem.

"How do you shut it off?" I asked.

"Squeeze the bottom of it." I squeezed the bottom of the pendant, watching the laser vanish with a _ZZHOOMP!_

"Thank you, Brett," Mr. Nulle said, signaling for him to leave. The fat man waddled away, giggling like a child on Christmas morning.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five- "Will You Do It?"**

"Now, Lex," the muscular man said, turning to look at me, "I will understand if you don't want to join. After all, you would be going to an island and staying with the man who sent the dark-skinned man to murder your father. The man who murdered your father is really Duxanian Michel, or D.M. We would even allow you to take your OA-93, if you think you can conceal it well enough. So, here's the big question: will you do it?"

"Yes," I blurted, giving myself no time to think it over for myself.

"Excellent. For now, Special Agent Carter will escort you to the cafeteria and you can get something to eat. Then you can go get some rest. I'm sure you are exhausted. It's good to have you on the team, Lex. But, you can never tell anyone about anything that you see or do here or anywhere during any mission. Understand?"

"Of course," I said, walking out the door with all of my gear in my pockets, around my neck, and around my finger.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six- Esperta Sanchez**

I quickly gave a final, brief oversight of the profile I'd been given. According to this stack of papers, I was Esperta Sanchez, a seventeen-year-old Spanish boy who was going to Skull Island on vacation with my parents, Martha and Gregory Sanchez. Of course, the two tranquil adults sitting next to me on the plane weren't really my parents; they were two CIA agents, Michal Troy and Michelle Pimiellia, though you wouldn't be able to tell.

"Now remember, Esperta," my "mom" said, "don't go swimming in the water. There are alligators there." That was one of our coded messages. _Don't purposely go swimming with the big fishes. We won't be much involved in this, but we still don't need our partner taken out by Goronovich. _

"Oh, Mother," I sighed, another code. _I understand. _I started as a hand wrapped around the back of my neck. I began to pull my phone from my pocket when I heard my "dad's" voice say, "Listen to your mother, Champ."

_Don't disobey our orders. You're new at this and you may make snap decisions like you just about did. _I nodded.

"Please put on your seatbelts and make sure you're in the upright position," a robotic voice droned. I clipped on my seatbelt and turned at the feeling of eyes boring into the back of my head. A young, blond flight attendant was staring straight at me. "_Te puedo ayudar?_" I said mockingly, knowing the idiotic blond wouldn't understand anything I'd just said.

"I'm sorry. I don't speak Spanish," the flight attendant said, attempting to sound nice but without any care.

"_Te es no educado a mirada_," I snapped back.

"I'm…sorry, I don't understand."

"It is… how you say, it is not polite to stare," I said with a thick Spanish accent. After a few hours, as the lane hit the ground, a loud, jolly voice said, "Hello there, dear tourists and visitors, I am delighted to have you come to my beautiful hometown, Skull Island!"


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven- "Mom" and "Dad" are Killed**

"Now remember, son," my "mom" said sternly, "don't go swimming in the water, I mean it. There are alligators out there!"

"Oh, _mother!" _I groaned, this time being serious. _They won't ever quit thinking of me as a little kid._ The plane squealed to a stop, showing the "unclip seatbelts" icon on the screen above my head.

I unclipped my seatbelt and stood up, stretching. It was then that I noticed the flight attendant speaking quietly with a tall, dark man with a deep, twisting scar crisscrossing his right cheek. I could barely make out the words "…weird Spanish kid…" come out of the flight attendants mouth. It was then that I realized who the man was.

"Goronovich!" I blurted out, placed my hand inside my right pocket in case trouble should arise. I began slowly walking forward, trying to make myself as unnoticed as possible.

"Mom, can I have a piece of gum?" I asked. Another one of our coded messages. _Goronovich is here!_

I crouched down and pulled out my new Razr. I slid to the side, taking cover behind an airline seat and waited tensely, fearing that I would soon be killed.

"Esperta, get over here and quit playing around!" Mom said. I glanced at here dumbly, as if to say ask if she'd heard me correctly. She nodded slightly, a gesture that wouldn't have been seen unless it was being looked for.

I reluctantly walked out from my cover, still holding the phone in my hand. I flicked it open and started walking slowly forward, taking cover behind the other two CIA agents. I ducked suddenly as a barrage of bullets sprayed through the air, hosing down the two CIA agents before I was aware of what had happened.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight- The Fight**

A muscular man shouted an incoherent spew of words and charged towards me. I flicked off the plastic tip of the needle with lightning-fast reflexes and pressed the silver button on the right side of the Razr, the phone making a loud _WHOOSH _as the needle flashed through the air, striking the man squarely in the chest, piercing his jacket. His eyes rolled deep into his skull as he groaned and pitched forward, landing with a _THUD._

More bullets were fired in my direction, blocked only by the confused passengers that had stood up in front of me. It sickened me to think of how many people were dying because of me. The thought was instantly out of my mind as a bullet clipped my left shoulder, sending a searing pain rushing through it.

I swiped at my bag that was hanging above my head as I dove underneath a seat. I pulled the OA-93 Pistol from the bag and slipped two more magazines from my pack and into my pocket. I rolled out from underneath the cover of the seat. I squeezed off the full magazine with one hold of the trigger, which sent a crackling pain up my wrist from the extreme kick of firing an entire clip instantaneously; the sudden onslaught startled the armed guards that had been attacking me, causing them to hesitate their assault. Bad idea.

The .223 rounds, standard military edition, flying at approximately three thousand feet per second, struck the guards in random areas, dropping them like raindrops.

_KA-BLOW! _A bullet struck the air conditioner directly, sending a powerful burst of cold air blowing by, temporarily blinding the enemies. I quickly whipped up my left hand, squeezing the sapphire ring twice; I squeezed my eyes shut tightly as a deafening _BLAM _exploded through the air, followed by an extremely high-pitched shriek that shattered the windows of the airplane. Even with my eyes closed, the flash was tremendously bright.

I used the blinding explosion to my advantage, sprinting full-speed forward, only to be blocked off by a mass of confused, disoriented thugs. Making a split-second decision, I flung my bag over my shoulder and, remembering the sunglasses on my eyes, shouted out, "Shocking!" A flash overtook my vision for just a fraction of a second, allowing me to see one of the thugs get knocked off of his feet with the force of the bolt, hitting three other guys as he fell.

I grabbed the unconscious man by the shoulders and attempted to lift him up. He weighed at least three hundred pounds! I shoved the man down as a bullet exploded somewhere by my head, causing me to crouch down in panic. The exit was blocked and my body that I was going to throw out the window to land on weighed over three hundred pounds.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine- Captured**

I suddenly saw a small, wiry-looking man with a hole through his chest, blood blossoming from the wound. If I hadn't have been pumped with enough adrenaline to fill the Atlantic Ocean, I would have thrown up.

I regretfully picked up the light man and threw him out of one of the shattered windows, diving out after him, praying that I would land on him and not the concrete. After falling about twenty feet, I landed brutally onto the body, pain shooting through my tailbone and up my spine.

I got shakily up and, after checking to see if there was anything broken, took my Razr from my pocket and hit "send" and "1" simultaneously, instantly being connected to Mr. Nulle. "What's the matter?" he growled.

"The other two CIA agents I was with are dead."

"_WHAT?"_ Mr. Nulle shouted.

"I don't get it either. Some flight attendant was there, but I think she was a spy for Goronovich. He came into the plane when it landed and started talking to her. Then, next thing I know, bullets are flying at me from a ton of different guards. They… didn't make it," I choked out, a lump rising in my throat.

"Where are you? Are you safe? We'll send in air support and get you out of there."

"I'm outside the plane. Tell Brett that his gizmos were useful. I used the flash bang in the ring and leapt out the window. But I'm okay. I don't know about safe, though. I don't know how long they'll be shooting at each other. But don't send in air support. I can handle it."

"Okay," Mr. Nulle sighed, ending the conversation. _FWOOW! _I started as a pointed object struck me in the spine. It felt like being punched in the spine with brass knuckles. I turned around to see Goronovich staring down at me, a blowgun in his left hand. I felt around on my back to feel a dart protruding from it.

"No," I groaned, collapsing to the ground, unconscious.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten- "Just a Kid."**

I groaned loudly as I curled up, my back stiff and achy. I cried out in pain as my back cracked loudly, the ominous sound reverberating off the cement walls of the building (or dungeon) I was in. A fiery pain washed over my left shoulder, causing me to cry out. Blood dripped from the bullet wound. I removed my shirt and tore it into strips, wrapping it tightly around the wound to stop bleeding. I turned to the left and right, taking in my surroundings. I was in a moist, smelly room that caused me to think of a dungeon from medieval times.

The room was pitch black, making it impossible to see where my possible escape route was. I felt the top of my head, grateful to find that my sunglasses weren't taken. "Nuts," I moaned. An electronic hum buzzed as the entire room flared to a bright green, instantly lowering down to the average lighting. As I took in the surroundings, I noticed some odd vents in the walls. I looked up above my head to see a massive brown recluse spider sitting above my head!

I dove to the left and looked down at my body, taking inventory. I had my necklace, my ring, and my sunglasses. I stared directly up at the brown recluse, saying, "Shocking!" An electronic jolt zipped from the circular joints of the sunglasses, striking the brown recluse in the chest. The smell of roasted bug filled the air.

"I can't leave until I find out what Goronovich figured out," I muttered to myself. I began doing my Karate stretches, loosening up my joints and giving me enough flexibility to move without cracking a bone each time I moved. Suddenly, a man entered a door that was to my left, holding two triangle tactical knives in his hands.

"This way, boy," the man rasped loudly, stomping his boot as if to help me find my way. I squeezed my finger one time, hoping that the ring worked.

I walked forward, whispering, "Nuts." The night vision vanished, leaving me in the dark. Literally. I stumbled in the direction of the man, pretending to trip and land on the man. He collapsed to the ground in surprise, the blade of his knife slicing open my shirt. I slipped my hand into his left pocket, pulling out a set of keys and slipping them into my pocket.

"Oh… Get off me, boy, and don't try and run," the man hissed, a warning. I shakily got to my feet, walking out the door and into the light of the building I was in, presumably Goronovich Mansión, Minstriel Goronovich's multi-million dollar mansion. I heard a blade whistle by my ear, the knife penetrating the brick wall of the building.

"That was just a warning. Next one goes through the throat and out the mouth," the knife-thrower snarled menacingly, grabbing me roughly by the neck and, after retrieving his razor-sharp knife that protruded from the wall, guided me through the building, taking me out through a door and leading me through a forested area, the land too dark to be able to see if anyone was near.

Suddenly, the trees became less dense, allowing sunlight to stream through. I stared at the path I was climbing up. The crudely put together octagonal-shaped stones made up a pathway that winded up a lush, hilly landscape. "This way, boy," the man growled, throwing me to the ground. I caught myself before I hit the ground, spinning around and striking the man in the face with a roundhouse kick. I pushed myself back up and spun around on the ball of my foot, lashing out in a ferocious side thrust kick.

My foot sank into the assailant's gut, sending him reeling to the ground. Before he could stand back up, I caught him in the nose with a fierce reverse punch. "I wouldn't threaten me, if I were you," I snarled, ascending the walkway. I still needed to find out what all this was about. I entered a small log cabin that stood hidden in the forestry, the doorway wide and opened, awaiting me.

I walked into the room, saying, "Knock, knock." An office chair spun around in front of me, Goronovich sitting in it.

"Well, little Lex. I must say, the CIA is getting desperate, sending a child on a top-secret covert mission. But, they were never any good at their job, were they, now? Just ask your dad. Oh, I forgot—you can't!" the psychopath cackled, slapping his knee. My fists clenched into white balls, me using the Karate fist to increase the strength the blow would deliver.

"Oh, Lex," the man sighed, wiping a tear from his eye, "I have long awaited to destroy the CIA's pitiful agents and maybe manage to get them to give it up! I already took out your two buddies back in the plane, didn't I?" The maniac snapped his fingers, signaling for a man to come up and hand him a weapon I instantly remembered as my OA-93 Pistol.

"Now, I will say that this is an interesting weapon, one I've quite frankly never seen before. It uses .223 centerfire cartridges, and, oddly, it has virtually no recoil. I believe that my bodyguards will find this to be an interesting specimen.

"Anyway, enough of that. You've meddled in a dangerous man's affairs, Lex. Now you will be paying the consequences. I know you're just a kid, but you shouldn't have messed with me. Take him away, Splice," the schizophrenic man said, waving his hand. Suddenly, the man with the knives came up behind me, clamping his hand ferociously around my left bicep and yanking me backwards roughly, flinging me to the ground and delivering a vigorous kick to my chin, causing me to spit blood into the air in a spray. Pain blasted through my jaw, causing me to groan loudly. The man flung me over his shoulder like I was a rag doll, walking down the pathway and taking me back into the dungeon where I'd first awakened, throwing me ferociously into the cement-block walls, causing me to crack my head against the wall, sending me into a swirl of unawareness. I collapsed to the ground, loosing consciousness before I was even aware of what was going on.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven- The Stranger**

I don't know why I woke up, but, as I fought back unconsciousness relentlessly, I noticed an odd, strange aroma, similar to that disinfectant smell of a hospital. I snapped awake instantly. I quickly spun the jewel on the necklace Brett gave me, sending a red beam into the cement block wall. I could feel the poison already taking over my system, causing my movements and thoughts to be sluggish and vague.

As the block collapsed to the ground, I snapped back into reality, shutting off the laser and wriggling my upper body through the hole, inhaling the magnificent scent of clean, fresh air. I squirmed and twisted, pulling my hips and legs through the small opening. I got the block and slid it carefully back into place, biding myself some time before they discovered my exit route. The cool, crisp night air revitalized me.

_I can't get anywhere without my gadgets, _I thought, turning back to look at the mansion. I had absolutely no clue how I was going to get back into the mansion and not be seen, but I had no choice. Without my stuff, I was entirely defenseless in Goronovich's hometown. I'd be dead the second I walked out.

I moved over to the door, sliding along the wall. I knew that the second I touched this door, I would probably sound an alarm and get every guard out here. That was just what I wanted. I breathed out and lashed out my foot in a roundhouse kick, smashing the door with the ball of my foot. Sure enough, a shrill alarm went off, screaming into my brain.

I turned instantly and began running, heading back towards the cement block. I shoved it in and crawled through, holding my breath as I ran to the door and pulled out the keys I'd snatched from "Splice." I unlocked the door just as a massive hoard of at least twenty guards dashed by, heading for the alarm-triggered door. I crept out the door and jogged down the corridor, heading for Goronovich's room.

Suddenly, a sharp pain struck me beneath the ribs, knocking me off my feet. A sharp burning flared up my left side. I looked down, my eyes widening in terror as I saw a tactical knife blade protruding from the front of my body. I twisted around, shouting in pain as I did so, to see Splice standing there with his other tactical knife in his right hand.

"I warned you. This one's going through the jugular," he snarled loudly, drawing back his arm. As his arm muscles tensed to throw the knife, a loud _BAM _echoed off the walls. Blood spurted from Splice's side, the psychotic knife-thrower being knocked to the ground from the force of the gunshot. He groaned loudly as his head smashed into the wall, probably giving him a concussion.

"Get up and run!" a loud, male voice yelled at me, snapping me back into reality. I stood up slowly, gasping in pain as the knife shifted positions in my body. By now, the guards had discovered the trick. I could hear their angry yelling as they charged down the hall. I turned around and ran into Goronovich's room, looking around frantically for my stuff.

I found it all in my backpack. I grabbed it and started to run out the door, only to be grabbed roughly by the shoulders and yanked back inside. A hand went over my mouth. I turned to see who held me. It was a teen about my age, a lean, confident-looking one. He put a finger up to his lips, taking his hand from my mouth.

He pulled a pistol out from a holster on her hip, cocking it and handing it to me. It was a Kimber .45, a beautiful weapon. However, now wasn't the time for admiring it. We turned and both began running down the hall. I grit my teeth against the extreme pain my side was in, following the mysterious new arrival. He suddenly pulled up his own pistol and fired off a shot. I turned to see where he'd shot.

A guard was knocked to the ground, the .45 round piercing his heart. He didn't move a muscle. I released a round from my pistol at a guard as he rounded the corner; however, I was excited, and I jerked the trigger. The bullet wound up ripping a hole through his right shoulder. The man shrieked and dropped to the ground, clutching his shoulder.

We burst out the door of Goronovich Mansión, running wildly through the darkness. The muzzle flashes from the guards' guns lighted up the dark night as they unloaded their rounds at us, each one striking ominously close. As we reached the gate which separated Goronovich's driveway from the road, I said, "Dead end."

The teen merely reached into both of her pockets, pulling out two grappling-guns. He tossed one to me and then pulled the trigger on his, his hook sailing over the concrete wall. He jerked it back; it impaled itself firmly into the wall. He attached the grappling-gun to a part of his black belt on his waist, beginning to scale the wall.

I copied him, sticking my grappling-gun in my pocket. We dropped over the other side of the wall. There was a shiny red Z06 Corvette parked in front of us. "Come on!" the guy yelled, running for the car. He ran over to the driver's side and slid in as I slid in the passenger. He already had the engine running; he hit the gas, squalling his tires loudly as he roared away. He shifted into second gear and we took off, instantly going over 80. He shifted like a pro. We never got past forth gear, though.

He turned right and floored it down the straightaway, stopping in front of a small, secluded building near the water. He pulled into the driveway, pressing a button on the dash of the Corvette. The garage door opened up; we pulled into the garage, closing it behind us.

There was a door connecting the house to the garage; he opened it and we walked inside.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve- "Not as Easy as we Thought"**

"So, now that that's all over," I said, "who _are _you?"

"I work for MI6," he replied, plopping down in a leather recliner and stretching out like a cat. "Mr. Nulle may not have mentioned it, but England and America are working together on this case."

"No," I said, "he didn't mention that." I sucked in my breathe sharply from the pain of speaking. The MI6 agent stood up suddenly and walked over to me. He bent down and examined the wound.

"I won't lie to you," he said. "This is going to hurt a lot." He wrapped his hands around the knife's handle and yanked it straight out. I screamed loudly as the blade exited my flesh. Lights clouded my vision. The mystery MI6 agent went into the other room and came back out with a large towel; he wrapped it tightly around my abdomen. I groaned loudly as I lay back on a sofa in the room.

"How long before I'll be good enough to move?" I asked, each word sending a stream of pain shooting up my side.

"With a wound that bad, only time will tell," the MI6 agent said. "I would guess it will take a good week before you can move around a lot," he said, clipping off the ends of each word like he was biting it. He, surprisingly, didn't speak with a very noticeable English accent. He dropped back into the recliner and buried himself in it.

He clicked on a 20" TV that was placed inside of an entertainment center that was positioned in the center of the room. I was amazed there was any TV on around here. CNN was on. But it was like Spanish CNN. There was a Spanish man telling the news in Spanish. The highlight: "Two fugitives broke into Goronovich Mansión. They then attacked Mr. Goronovich's bodyguard, Stephan T. Morgan, A.K.A. Splice. The fugitives managed to escape with some weapons and various items, but they currently are wanted, and, if someone helps the police safely arrest them, they will be paid a bounty of $150,000 for each fugitive."

"This isn't going to be as easy as we'd thought," I said, grunting. "Now they know who we are."


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen– Alex Rider**

A week from the day of the rescue from Goronovich, I was able to move without any intense pain shooting through my ribs. It was then that I confronted the teen from MI6. "What is your real name?" I asked him.

"My real name is Alex Rider," he answered.

"What all do you know about Goronovich and what's going on?" I asked.

"Just that I'm supposed to investigate him and see if he's up to any trickery. I just happened to be checking out his place and see you dragged in. we definitely know he's up to something now."

"Either that or he just likes to kill people for no reason," I said. I poured out the contents of my backpack on the couch. I stuck my phone in my pocket. I hung the necklace around my neck; I still had the ring around my finger. I'd sent the video feed of my interrogation to Carter.

Alex had an extra-large leather jacket with a holster built into the inside of it; you merely pressed a button on it and your gun popped out of it. I slipped my OA-93 into it and put it on, the gun concealed perfectly in it. Alex then dyed our hair, making my blond hair black and his brown hair sandy blond.

"Do you think you're ready now?" he asked.

"As ready as I'll ever be, I suppose," I said casually. He must have heard my doubt, though, as he quickly said, "I'm here with you, Lex. You're not alone here." I raised my head and smiled gratefully at him.


End file.
